


ISPY

by hydraflask



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: Bisexual Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes & Sam Wilson Friendship, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes is Hydra, Hydra (Marvel), M/M, Rich Bucky, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Steve Rogers Is A Plant Dad, Tears
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-03-06 12:59:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18851560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hydraflask/pseuds/hydraflask
Summary: James Buchanan Barnes is one of the finest assassins in the world. Employed by Hydra after a traumatic past, Bucky Barnes signs his life over via contract and is paid generously to executed those creating problems for Hydra. Sam Wilson being his lead corresponder and personal best friend, brings him one of his most challenging cases yet.Gathering intel on a man employed by S.H.I.E.L.D wasn't supposed to be easy, but falling in love with his target is even worse.





	1. Coffee and Paperwork

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sammi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammi/gifts), [Michelle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Michelle/gifts).



> It may be a little slow at first but things will definitely speed up. Hold on to your tissues because this is gonna be a tear-filled journey.

James Buchanan Barnes  
The Winter Soldier 475210J

As instructed, you are to eliminate anyone or anything Hydra™️ requests of you. Failure to abide by your given instructions will lead to immediate extraction and termination. You are not only employed by Hydra™️ but we are your only source of contact. You are prohibited from conversing with outside citizenry (with extensions to be negotiated). A large sum will be delivered in remit to your cooperation. Do you agree to pledge your allegiance and life to Hydra™️?

 

I, _____________, Agree.

James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes

\- - - - - - - -

Bucky lays flat on his velvet couch, staring up at the white painted ceiling. He can never get over how nice his place his. How every piece of furniture feels against his calloused skin. He rubs his right palm against the red velvet. _Smooth_ , he thinks to himself. His silk robe sleeve falls down his arm, exposing scarred, hairy flesh. This arm very dissimilar to his metal left one. Bucky pushes his sleeve back up and rolls to his side. He sighs slightly to himself, knowing he can’t lay here forever. He really wishes he could, though.

His body craves coffee like it craves oxygen. He groans and pulls himself up and off the couch. His body shivers at the cold hardwood that connects with his bare feet.

He shuts his eyes and rolls his neck slowly in a circular motion, savoring every pop he hears. He runs his right, fleshy palm against the hard, stainless steel that is his left arm. The soldier groans and makes his way to his very fancy, marbled kitchen. The only light source being the sun slightly peeking out from under the velvet green curtains. _Everything in this fucking penthouse is either silk or velvet_ , he thinks to himself.

The coffee pot steams, ready to be devoured.

Bucky deserve every drop of this heavily caffeinated shit after last night.

The naked man wrapped in cream silk sheets that lay not but 20 feet from Bucky, certainly took a lot out of him. The man, courtesy of Hydra, was included in his payment. Bucky didn’t even bother learning his name. He’s not  
looking for a permanent set up with the man. _If you can even call him one_ , Bucky smirks at his joke.

He’s definitely going to have to change those sheets.

Bucky grabs the coffee pot and slowly pours the hot liquid into a cold, white mug. He lifts up the mug, lightly sipping the blistering coffee. His tongue is pierced at the heat yet satisfied at the taste.

“Mornin’”, a voice utters. Bucky looks over at a dark, naked man. His bare feet clap against the marble floor as he walks over to the coffee pot. Bucky moves over and sits on a stool, across from his nameless guest.

“Hey,” Bucky replies.

“Morgan,” the beau says, staring into his coffee, as if he was used to being forgotten.

“Morgan. Sorry,” Bucky whispers in response. The kitchen fills with uncomfortable silence as both men sip their coffees.

“I left a robe on the chair next to the bed,” Bucky asks, “did you miss it?” a sense of passive-aggressiveness hints through his words.

“I was told to remain nude at all time, part of the Overnight Package.”

“Don’t bother if you’re uncomfortable,” Bucky being more uncomfortable if anything. Like hell he lets that shrunken dick go anywhere near his nice ass couch. Hell no.

Morgan laughs in response, “I’m good, man. It’s nothing i’m not used to.”

Bucky nods slowly and sips his coffee.  
The hell is he supposed to say to that?

Morgan leans his elbows on the counter and sips his coffee, his eyes peering over the mug, staring at Bucky. Bucky raises an eyebrow, pondering on what this freak wants.

“Sorry, I was just wondering… what do want me to do now?” Morgan smiles.

 _What does he want him to do now? Does he look like a fucking Bed and Breakfast?_ Bucky snarls, “You can leave.”

Morgan shrugs his shoulders and places the mug on the counter, “If that’s what you want, man.”

Morgan walks off and disappears down the hall, towards the bedroom. Bucky sits silently, drinking his coffee and leaning his elbows against the marble. About 5 minutes later, Morgan walks back into the kitchen, wearing light tan khakis and a loose gray sweater. Bucky didn’t focus too much on his clothes last night since they were off him about 5 minutes after Bucky met Morgan but if he did then he certainly would comment on his strange attire. Certainly not something you’d image a prostitute to wear. He slings a black, long coat over his shoulders and stands in front of Bucky.

“I guess I’m off then,” he says unbothered.

Bucky gives a fake smile and nods his head at him. Morgan shrugs and turns his back. Buck looks back down at his coffee and listens in earshot to the distant footsteps and finally the sound of a door opening, then closing. Bucky sighs softly.

As many times as he’s done this, he can never get use to being the one paying for the services instead of performing them.

Bucky pushes himself off the stool and walks towards the couch, once again, shaking off his thoughts. He bends his knees, ready for the comfort of soft, velvet cushions against his back when a loud knock at the door stops him.

“Who the fuck.” Bucky says, completely pissed off. If it’s Morgan I swear to god-.

He straightens himself back up and saunters to the door, located directly at head of the living room. His door, though looking very delicate, was as sturdy as steel. Multiple hidden locks and a very complex security system, preventing even the most skilled criminal from getting inside. After Morgan’s exit, the top 3 inside locks were undone but that had no effect to the outside ones. He peers through the small hole and into the very illuminated hallway. A tall, muscular man peers back.

“Come on Buck, you dipshit, let me in,” the man shouts through the door before pounding against the entry once more.

Fucking Sam.

“ALRIGHT!,” Bucky exclaims through the wall. He pulls open the door and Sam pushes past him before he can even get a “Hello” out.

“Hey, Buck! How are you? Oh thanks for asking, man, I’m great!” Bucky mocks Sam’s entry, playing out a scene that didn’t happened. It should’ve.

“This isn’t a personal visit,” Sam says.

Bucky closes the door and turns to find Sam in the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of coffee. Looks like coffee is popular this morning.

“Christ. Already?” Bucky shakes his head, walking to the kitchen. He seats himself on the stool, once again. God I miss my couch.

“This one's important. It’s incredibly high profiled,” Sam sips from his mug.

Bucky places his head in his hands, exhausted.

I just want a break. No work, no killing, no prostitutes. Just silence, on my couch. Please god, if there is one, Bucky pleads to himself.

After the pity party in his head, Bucky asks, “Politician?”

The last politician he took out, went so unnoticed they called it an “accidental death”. They’re very dangerous and incredibly risky but are paid very generously.

Just please not a kid, not again.

“Not exactly,” Sam’s voice trails off.

Curious, Bucky lifts his head and an eyebrow at Sam.

“He’s an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D and a close associate to Tony Stark of Stark Industries,” Sam holds his breath.

“Hell no,” Bucky breaths out, every muscle tightening in his body.

Before Sam can say another word, Bucky starts on his usual irritated rant. At least this time he has a good reason for it.

“S.H.I.E.L.D, Sam? Fuckin S.H.I.E.L.D? Do you know who they are? They’re literally the opposite of Hydra. They rank third in arms and technology. Hydra ranking number two by a landslide. A LANDSLIDE, SAM. AND STARK INDUSTRIES BEING NUMBER ONE. THIS PERSON BEING CONNECTED TO TWO OUT OF THREE OF THE MOST-”

Sam rolls his eyes at Bucky's dramatics. This boy didn’t even let him finish telling him about the file. If he’d just fucking listen.

“Bucky,” Sam says quietly, “Shut the fuck up AND LISTEN!” he ends his sentence loudly.

Bucky stops mid-sentence, startled at Sam’s voice.

“Buck, I love you man, but chill. Please, sit down before your arm starts smokin’ and let me read the file,” Sam gestures to the stool across the counter from him.

Bucky slowly walks to the stool and settles into it.

“Alright, good,” Sam pulls up a file that was hidden in his left hand and drops the papers on the counter, “As you know, he’s employed by S.H.I.E.L.D as well as Stark Industries,” Sam walks around the marble and sits on the stool next Bucky.

“Word on the street says he’s working with the government. We’re not exactly sure on what but a source says it’s a possible 4502.”

Human experimentation.

“Hydra wants details,” Sam continues, “It's gonna be an odd one but, they don’t want you to kill him.”

Bucky's face scrunches up in confusion. He’s their problem-solver. A way to get rid of unnecessary complications. This isn’t a job they’d give him unless it was tremendously important.

“They want you to gather intel.”

Intel? “I’m not intel. That’s a job for the desk people. I’m not wasting my time on something as simple as this.” Bucky shrugs off Sam and his dumbass assignment.

Sam sighs, “I don’t know what to tell you, man. They want you doing this job. There’s also another thing…” Sam's voice trails off.

“What is it?”

“They’ve requested you consider making contact with the target.”

Contact? This coming from a group of businessmen who cut his pay 10% for an entire month because he went to a bar, unattended.

“Contact? Are you sure this comes from Hydra?” Bucky laughs, with a hint of confusion in his voice.

Sam shakes his head, “That’s what they’ve told me,” he smiles slightly.

Bucky grabs Sam’s mug off the counter and pulls it to his lips, before sipping he asks, “What’s this dude’s name anyway?” He finishes his words gulping down his friend’s coffee.

“Steven Grant Rogers.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow.


	2. Appreciation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky begins his study on Steve Rogers and his phone call with Sam ends unexpectedly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for 100 hits, I really appreciate everyone of them! Enjoy this emotional chapter that I literally wrote in one day.

It’s been almost an hour since Sam left.

 After the coffee pot was dry and the conversation was dead, there was no need for him to stick around anymore. Before Sam left, he asked Bucky one thing, “Just look at the file, man. He’s not that bad looking, to be honest. Also, maybe put on some clothes.”

 He never did.

 The mustard yellow file lays on the coffee table in front of him, untouched. The couch feels so comfortable under him, yet somehow he’s wildly tense. Bucky's knee bounces and his metal arm tightens. He didn’t say anything to Sam about how familiar the name sounds rolling off his tongue.

  _“Steve Rogers.”_ He says outloud, to no one. No matter how many times he racks his brain, he can’t think of where he’s heard the name. Whether it was on the streets, from a past file, or in service, he can’t _fucking_ figure it out.

 Every moment of his life he can recall, there are no missing pieces. Hydra offered but….. he kindly declined.

 You think he’d open the file, look at this Steve’s face, try to help the distant memory. Yet, he doesn’t. He told Sam he’d start the assignment tomorrow and he hasn’t even looked at the guy’s picture. Bucky calms his leg and reaches for the file. It isn’t as thick as his past mission files, which is odd.

 

_Maybe Steve’s an odd guy._

 

He flips the file a few times, back and forth, procrastinating. “This is stupid,” he realizes and flips open the file.

 The picture of a man is attached to the papers inside, as well as clipped to the back. His mind blanks on the unfamiliar face. He has never seen this man, or a man ever like him before. The anxiety of Steve’s name fades away with all the worries he had before. With his mind calm, he focused on the fact his skittish behavior was due to the idea that he wouldn’t be able to complete his assignment. No personal connections is his one and only rule. He won’t take out anyone he knows personally. That was the only condition he added to his contract.

 He studies Steve’s face. It was a head portrait, as they usually are. The picture obviously acquired from his S.H.I.E.L.D badge photo. _Sam was right,_ he thinks to himself with a smirk.

 An attractive pale man smiles back at him. Smile lines around his mouth indicate that he is a _very_ content person. Steve’s dirty blonde hair was pushed back with a messy look to it. The man had kind, light blue eyes, the color of an early afternoon sky. Bucky smiled to himself, just staring at this man’s happy face brought him an incredible amount of joy. It’s a contagious smile, a smile he might actually like to meet one day.

 He probably shouldn’t. Hydra gave him the option and even advocated it, but Bucky refused. He’s not technically killing Steve, but to strike up a personal connection isn’t such a great idea either.

 Sam is supposed to call later with his new address, where he’ll have full surveillance over Steve. Flipping through the few sheets, Bucky hasn’t found out much about him. He’s a 33 year old white man who was scouted by S.H.I.E.L.D during his time in the Army. Steve’s mother died while he still a kid, never had a father around.

 

_Similar to myself,_ Bucky thinks to himself.

 

According to these old doctor records, Steve had a weak immune system as a kid, including asthma. His whole life he was touch and go with death. Bucky can’t even begin to imagine what it must’ve be like to have no one and think _today could be my last day_.

 Bucky shivers at the thought of Steve’s childhood. It honestly wasn’t much different from his but at least he was strong enough to protect himself. Apparently, Steve was able to gain a great amount in weight and control his body systems with a large amount of different medications. Doesn’t say how he could actually pay since it seems he had no money, and was too sick to work for it. Perhaps he had a friend who helped him out.

 Steve’s connection to Stark Industries is incredibly odd. There’s a few shitty photos taken of Steve and Tony printed on paper but that’s about it. Mostly looks like a friendship. One blurry pic of Tony’s arm in a friendly hold around Steve’s shoulder proves it.

 He’s going to have to find a way around S.H.I.E.L.D’s AND Stark Industries’ security system, which will be next to damn impossible. He’ll have to ask office if there’s anyway they can set him up with a janitorial job for him there. It’s not much but it’s better than being on the outside.

 The shrill scream of his cell phone interrupts his thoughts and planning.

 

“Christ,” he mumbles, a little startled.

 

He reaches for his phone that lay across from him, vibrating against the glass of the coffee table. He brings it to his ear using his prosthetic bionic arm, answering, “Hello?”

 “Alright, Barnes. Hydra got you a sweet getup across the street from the target’s apartment. Luckily, his streets not that far from yours so relocation won’t cost much,” Sam didn’t even bother with a hello. He’s never been much of a introductory kind of guy, though.  

 Sam continues, “The apartment has already been furnished so you’ll just need a small moving van which will be sent later today,” Sam pauses, “Hello?”

 

“Yeah, Sam. I’m here, I hear, ya,” Bucky rubs his face with his free, fleshed hand, already exhausted.

 

“Alright, good. Hydra also rented out another location that could be required,” Sam pauses, once again.

 Bucky pushes himself off the couch and stalks to his bedroom, down the hall.

 “Where?” Bucky asks, sighing into the phone at the sight of his tangled sheets. Clothes laid scattered on the grey carpet, surrounding the bed. Bucky leans over and snatches up his pair of black boxer briefs.

 

“Well, looking into where Steve lives, Hydra was able to obtain an empty apartment in the exact building. The one right across from him to be precise,” Sam says.

 Didn’t he already establish that he didn’t want to make personal contact?

 “Sam, no,” Bucky snarls, picking up the last piece of clothing off the floor.

 “Look, I know you rejected the idea of contact but if you change your mind then the apartment is there. It’s just a precaution.”

 After tossing the clothing into a white basket next to the closet, Bucky falls back onto his disorganized bedding. His feet dangle off the end of the mattress and Bucky focuses his eyes on the ceiling.

 “Whatever, man. I won’t use it but if Hydra wants to waste their money, then let them be my guest,” Bucky shuts his eyes.

 An inaudible pause fills the phone line. The silence is comforting, as well as knowing Sam’s presence on the other end.  

 “Hey, Buck?” Sam finally asks, breaking the stillness.

 

“Yeah, bud?”

 

“Just know that,” Sam takes a breath, “I love you, man.”

 

Bucky opens his eyes, welcomed by the white ceiling. Sam’s seriousness scares him. He’s told Bucky he’s loved him before but never like this. An out of the blue endearment was not Sam’s style. Bucky had a strong inexplicable urge to ask about the sudden endearment he had just received, but decided to just enjoy it as it came.

 

“I love you too, Sam.”

 

Sam knew almost every aspect of his life. He was the only one Bucky trusted enough not to use it against him. The kind of information that could be used to blackmail him, Sam had always been understanding. He never judged Bucky or laughed at him. He was a shoulder for him.

 

But Sam was still Hydra.

 Something things can’t be told to even the most trustworthy of people.

 Sam continues, “It takes balls to do what you do, man. Every morning you wake up and put on this brave face. You’re the goddamn winter soldier. Every war criminal’s worst nightmare.”

 Bucky's body freezes at every word of Sam’s speech. His brain not able to comprehend what’s happening.

 “Where is this coming from?” Bucky asks, eyes slightly watering.

 “Why are you saying this shit, Sam?” Irritation fills Bucky's body as he sits up. Sam has no right to start on this emotional shit.

 

Sam sighs, “Bucky, I just want you to know how much I appreciate you.”

 

Bucky scoffs and rolls his eyes. He should just say “Thank you” and move on, but it doesn’t feel right. Those nights Bucky had called Sam at 4 in the morning, hysterical, come to mind. His sobbing into the phone while Sam whispered kind words, reassuring Bucky of his safety were embarrassing enough. Whether it was the recurring nightmare of the accident that left him with a robotic left arm or the torture of the job, Sam was always there, _appreciating_ him.

 

“You appreciate that I do a job so you don’t have to,” Bucky says, coldly.

 

“Bucky, that’s not what I meant. I’m just- I-,” Sam sighs, in defeat.

 

“It’s fine, Sam. At least i’m doing some good,” Bucky stands and faces his chaotic bed. “I have to go. I’ll text you when the moving van gets here.”

 

“Alright. I’ll- um- talk you later.”

 

“Bye,” Bucky pulls the phone away from his ear and hangs up. He tosses his cell gently to the wing chair in the corner of the room. After landing, it takes a few bounces but finally sits motionless.

 Bucky rubs his eyes with the tips of his fingers and holds in a sigh. He has so much to do before the van arrives.

  _Guess I’ll start on the bed,_ He thinks to himself. From there, Bucky begins his burdens.


	3. Resident Lounge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky puts some awful men in their place and leaves home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TALK OF SEXUAL ASSAULT WARNING!!! SKIP THE ITALIC FLASHBACK AND READ THE NOTE AT THE END FOR EASY SUMMARY!!!!!!!!!!
> 
> P.S sorry this chapter is so short and shitty, it’s finals week and i’m incredibly stressed.

Four suitcases lay stacked against each other in the corner of the soundless lobby. The phones remained silent and the two clerks behind the lengthy, wooden desk had their noses in their phones. 

The lobby usually remains silent, but as for the resident lounge in the back, not so much. Bucky explored that room, once. The smoke of cigars attacked his lungs and the sound of deep laughter filled the room. He recalls the lounge being packed with old, white men who laughed at each other’s degrading remarks about women who worked for them. It took everything in Bucky’s power not to wipe them all out, then and there. Which wouldn’t have taken long.

It was the remark from the man playing pool that got him in serious trouble with corporate and almost evicted if not for Hydra’s reimbursement.

 

__ \-      -       -       -      -      -      - _ _

 

 

_ After introducing himself and avoiding all talk of his metal arm, Bucky was urged into a game of pool. _

 

_ “Did you check out that rack on the babe at the front desk?” The man’s husky voice sent shivers down Bucky’s spine. Buck leans against the pool table as the man named William takes a shot, nailing his colored ball into the pocket. _

 

_ Another older man, who he believes introduced himself as Horace, snorts, “Hell, I wouldn’t mind bending that little sweetheart over this very table,” the disgusting man leans forward and slaps the wooden table that was holding another man’s timber boots. _

 

_ Bucky’s grip on his pool cue tightens, as he tries to ignore the revolting men. He wanted to walk out of that horrendous room, but Hydra asked him to keep other residents on his good side and oblivious of his real job.  _

 

_ “You’d have to be a fag not to tap that, even if the bitch tries saying no,” William misses his shot. _

 

_ Bucky grumbles under his breath, “Not unless you wanna’ fucking die.” He lines up and gets in close range of the cue ball. _

 

_ “What was that, James? I don’t have my hearing aids turned up all the way,” Horace asks. _

 

_ Bucky pulls back his cue and strikes the white ball, the clatter of billiards fills the room. A striped red ball rolls into the far left pocket, “I said, not unless you wanna’ get locked up for rape.”  _

 

_ Bucky straights his stance, eyes wandering over the table. _

 

_ William scoffs, “You a fuckin’ fag?” _

 

_ Bucky smirks and slowly strolls around the table, coming closer to William with every step, eyes still set on the table. _

 

_ “A fag? If that’s what you wanna call it, sure,” Bucky raises his head at William, his eyes piercing into the middle aged man ahead of him. Bucky took another step towards him, filling the last bit of space separating them.  _

 

_ William’s eyes widen at him, until his frown curls up into a sneer. He tilts his head back and lets out a howl of laughter. _

 

_ That sent Bucky over the edge. _

 

_ He rapidly extends his metal arm, underhanded, and squeezes onto the genitalia that met his metallic hand.  _

 

_ The room goes silent and William’s laughter stops, almost instantly. Bucky gives the testicles a small squeeze and William lets out a very unmanly yelp. Now this, this is funny. _

 

_ Bucky chuckles at the man, in his pathetic state. He smiles, “Now how about I bend you over that table and have my way with you,” Bucky leans in closer to William’s face, who was frozen in fear.  _

 

_ “Now, James. Be careful what your next move is. Homo or not, don’t think for a second that none of us aren’t armed,” Horace speaks over Bucky’s shoulder. He can sense the man’s presence behind him. _

 

_ Bucky laughs once more, “Come on, guys. Aren’t we just havin’ some fun?” Bucky releases his grip on William who lets out a wheeze and barrels over, gripping onto himself.  _

 

_ Bucky raises his hands up, in surrender, and backs off the pathetic man. _

 

_ Fuckin’ pussy, he thinks to himself. _

 

_ “You should probably leave, son.”  _

 

_ “Good idea, Horace,” Bucky lowers his arms and walks away, out the door. _

 

__ \-      -       -       -      -      -      - _ _

 

Of course William snitched, would’ve called the police if Hydra hadn’t offered the man a generous settlement. The manager of the apartments told him he was no longer welcomed in the lounge, which Bucky couldn’t be more thankful for. 

After that, he never had any problems. Male residents avoided him, which he didn’t mind. Just meant more peace and quiet for him. Though the women, they couldn’t have been more kind. Apparently, there were some incidents of William and the others, hassling female employees and residents.

One girl, couldn’t have been older than 17, actually high-fived him in the hallway.

A short, soft ding interrupts his train of thought. Bucky reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone to study the sudden notification.

“Your van should be there now,” Bucky whispers the text from Sam, out loud, to himself. He looks up and out through the glass doors to find a short blue van sitting out front. A picture of a giant cockroach fills the side of it, along with  **_JAMES’ BUGS-B-GONE_ ** , in giant bold letters.

 

Bucky sighs, “Goddamnit, Sam.”

 

A man in a black suit with a white bow tie jogs around the side of the van, and towards Bucky. He opens the doors and slows his jog, stopping in front of him.

“Here are your keys, Mr. Senrab,” The valet says, addressing him using his hoaxed name. James Senrab, ‘Senrab’ just being ‘Barnes’, backwards.

The valet holds out his hand in a fist and Bucky reaches out. A ring holding two keys, falls against his palm. One for the van and the other for the apartment.

“Thank you. Can you help me with my bags?” Bucky nods his head towards the luggage in the corner of the room.

The man bows his head, “Of course, sir.” He hoists up the large Nike sports bag over his shoulder and pulls the red roller behind him. Bucky raises the smaller shoulder bag over his arm and grabs the last suitcase.

The van back doors were already open when Bucky got through the glass entrance and the valet was already pushing in the nike shoulder bag.

Bucky did the same and pulled a 10 dollar bill from his pocket, “Thanks, man.”

The valet takes the cash, nods, and jogs back into the building.

Bucky slams shut the van’s back doors and twirls the keys around his pointer finger while proceeding to the driver’s side.

Hydra used to send drivers along with whatever vehicle they gave him but Bucky always sent them back. The corporation eventually stopped sending drivers, they just dropped off the automobile and the rest was up to Bucky. There was something about being in control of driving, the silence that came gifted with it, it was heaven. Driving was one of the few things Bucky could control. He could slam on the breaks, honk his horn, yell at dumbasses who don’t know how to use a turn signal, it was all up to him.

Driving to the big city was going to be hell. He already knew he’d probably bash in someone’s windshield with the bat that he packed in his Nike bag. He buckled his seat belt and started the car.

 

“New York City, here we come.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky was told by hydra to make nice with his neighbors, who turn out to be sexists pigs. They joke of sexual assault and Bucky grabs a man’s penis to make him feel how a woman feels. They called him homophobic slurs as well. Women in the apartment building became friendly with him while the men avoid him.


	4. Standard Kitchen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky is introduced to his new apartment and is given all his necessary identification. He also realizes that being kind, isn’t always the best thing to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually really like this chapter. Sorry this chapter took so long, I wanted it to be better than the last. And thank you so much for the kudos!!!!

Bucky pulled onto the side of the road and put the van in park. His hands gripping the wheel while his face blood red from screeching at every car that cut him off or honked their horns while sitting in traffic. At this rate, Bucky’s not going to last long before he kills someone. He grunts a few curse words under his breath before undoing his seatbelt and jumping out of the van.

He immediately stops and stares up at the building across from him.

_Steve’s Building._

He turns around and glares at the building hiding behind his van.

Two choices, one of which he knows he should choose, and the other he would be praised for. Bucky has always taken his job seriously. He did what he knew would be best and that Hydra would be pleased with. This time, what would be best is against Hydra’s wishes. They give him the appearance of decision, like he’s in control. Though, Bucky knows the truth.

 

Hydra owns him.

 

He has no free will anymore. It was a sacrifice he made, one he hoped would be worth it. Whether it was, Bucky still doesn’t know. A new assignment every week, and a warm place to sleep every night. So far, Bucky hasn’t had any complaints.

There were some…. unpleasant assignments he’s completed; he’d rather not think of those.

He sighs and turns to Steve’s building.

“Fucking Hydra,” Bucky says before making his way towards the steady building, dodging traffic along the way.

When he first walks into the lobby, he wasn’t expecting it to be so…. boring.

There’s not even a lobby, it’s almost all metal. Diamond metal plated floors, ones you’d commonly see in industrial buildings, make no noise as Bucky’s boots tread over them. Giant metallic mailboxes line the side of the walls and a staircase leading up to higher floors sits in between the room. Bucky spotted an elevator at the end of the hall but he chose to take the stairs.

His apartment is on Floor 3, Apartment Number 32. Right across from fucking Steve. God, he despises Hydra.

Every step he takes feels like a descent to hell. Well in this case, an ascent. He loathed the mission that waited for him, on floor 3, apartment 31.

Steve Grant Rogers.

The second flight of stairs are just as bad. It’s not much of a physical thing as it is mental.

Bucky lifts his head before taking a step onto his last flight of stairs.

He pauses. Bucky sighs, “How’d you know which building?”

“You’d never go against Hydra’s wishes, even if they gave you that so-called _choice_ ,” Sam says. He was wearing his “try not to draw attention” outfit. Some dark jeans, a white tee, a brown leather jacket, and to top it all off, sunglasses with a navy baseball cap.

Sam sat on the fourth stair and leaned against his knees, up in front of him,

 

Thoughts of their last conversation fills the air.

 

Finally, Sam speaks, “I didn’t mean anything by it, Bucky. And I am grateful as hell that you do this _fucking job_ . I’m _nowhere_ near as strong as you and if they gave me your job, I probably wouldn’t be here right now,” Sam shakes his head, “You’re my best friend, Buck.”

 

“Now don’t go cryin’ on me, Wilson.” Bucky smirks.

 

Sam smiles at him, “Wanna head up?”

 

Bucky nods in response. Sam stands up and starts up the stairs he was once resting on.

 

“It’s the third one from the stairs.” Sam climbs the stairs and Bucky follows steadily behind.

 

“How’d you know I wouldn’t take the elevator?” Bucky asks.

 

“You wouldn’t risk being inclosed like that.”

As they near the door, Bucky pulls out his key ring, expecting Sam to need them but to his surprise Sam has a copy of his own. Hydra’s very paranoid about detection. You’re given only one key and it’s your personal responsibility not to lose it. They won’t supply another one. It’s never happened to Bucky and it never will.

 

“You have three keys in total. One for the van, one for the apartment across the street, and this one,” Sam holds up the key in his hand. He slides it into the lock, turns it, and pushes open the gray door.

“You only have one key for each apartment and one key for the van. Please don’t fucking lose them, not that there’s ever been an incident like that before with you,” Sam gestures for Bucky to follow him and enters the apartment.

Bucky’s eyes wander over every detail, every escape route, and every object that can be used as a weapon. The entrance leads into a living room with light brown carpeting. A few dark brown countertops model the room to match the dark brown leather couch. A flat screen television rests on top of one and coasters on another.

To the right of Bucky is the kitchen which could only be described as a standard apartment kitchen set with a standard refrigerator, a standard stove, and standard countertops. A microwave is nailed into the wall, above the stove.

“It’s not much but it should be enough. The bedroom and bathroom is down the hall,” Sam says.

Bucky slowly strolls down the hallway and runs his fingertips against the cracked painted walls. The bathroom comes up on his left. Everything white with a shower/bath combo.

Two steps further is the bedroom. A king bed is postured in the middle of the room. A giant thick red quilt is gently spread on top. Another flatscreen is hung on the wall, facing the bed. Bucky shrugs and walks back to the living room.

 

“It’s decent,” Bucky says.

 

“Yeah, so don’t trash it. Which reminds me,” Sam’s voice trails off a bit. Bucky raises an eyebrow.

 

“This assignment is scheduled to be set for about, give or take, three months.”

Bucky’s eyes widen. Three months? Jesus christ, most assignments take three weeks, five at the most.

 

“Three fucking months, Sam? They expect me to go three months talking to no one but Steve Fucking Rogers?” Bucky throws his hands up and shakes his head in frustration.

 

“Look, you’ll get 2500 dollars a week and if you’re lonely, you can always call me,” Sam smiles.

Bucky looks up in complete confusion with an eyebrow raised.

Sam’s eyes widen, “I mean like, uh, to hang out and watch tv or drink beers, ya know? But if you’re interested in that type of, erhm, _company_ , then I can give you the numbers of a few trustworthy, um, businessmen,” Sam’s sentence seems to go on forever, mainly containing words such as “um” or “like”.

 

“Calm down, Sam. I know you’re not hitting on me. It’s a little homophobic that you thought otherwise,” Bucky smirks at him.

 

“Come here, dick,” Sam gestures for Bucky to come closer.

 

Bucky leans his head away, “Nah, man.”

 

Sam opens his arms and steps closer, “You have no choice.”

Bucky rubs his face with his hands and smiles. He walks to Sam and wraps his arms around his frame. Bucky puts his face in the crook of Sam’s neck.

Their hug lasts a few seconds before they untangle their arms and step back. They silently smile at the other.

 

“You gonna’ be okay?” Sam asks.

 

“Yeah, bud. I am.”

 

“Call me if you need anything. I don’t care what time of day it is, please call. And please go across the street and check out that apartment. There’s surveillance that helps peer into the target’s apartment as well as small cameras and microphones in the closet of this bedroom.”

Bucky nods at the new information. He can go later today, it’s only noon.

“Be safe,” They exchange more nods before Sam slips out the door.

Bucky immediately collapses on the couch and slouches down.

 

_Home sweet home._

 

He rests his eyes for a few seconds before opening them once again. This time he notices a yellow envelope sitting next to him on the couch. Bucky reaches for it and positions himself back upward.

There’s always one left for him at his temporary relocation address. They usually contain new I.Ds, birth certificates, etc.

He rips open the side of it and empties it’s contaminants on his lap. A few cards, a badge, and a few pieces of paper fall out.

He grabs the larger piece of paper first and finds writing on the back.

 

**The Winter Soldier,**

 

**Inside you will find an I.D, driver’s license, birth certificate, and a social security card all using your counterfeit name. Also included, a mock-up S.H.I.E.L.D badge with photo ID. You start your janitorial job tomorrow.**

 

**Good luck.**

 

 _“_ Wow, so sentimental. I might cry,” Bucky mocks and rolls his eyes. He crumbles up the paper and tosses it behind him.

His I.D, driver’s license, and S.H.I.E.L.D badge all have an awful picture of him with a frown and frizzy hair, bangs pulled back in a bun.

He lays everything out on the coffee table in front of him. His eyes wander over every piece of information. This is the new him, James Senrab. Might as well embrace it.

“Thanks, Nat.” a muffled voice shouts from the hallway behind the closed front door. Bucky turns his head towards the voice. A loud _crash_ and a few curse words follow the gratitude.

Bucky sighs and in the kindest of his heart, he’s finds himself walking towards the door to help the struggling stranger.

He pulls open the wooden door and is greeted to a man bent over in front of him. Bucky immediately averts his eyes and clears his throat, uncomfortably. A blonde man turns his head and Bucky can see a few scattered items on the ground behind him.

 

“Oh sorry,” The man stands and smiles.

 

Bucky’s eyes widen.

 

_Jesus christ he isn’t prepared for this right now._

 

“Hey, I’m Steve. You must be my new neighbor.”


	5. Small Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky meets Steve for the first time and learns some new information.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is my longest chapter  
> fkkfkf
> 
> My friend told me that chapter five was too early to make them fuck, so no smut unfortunately.

“Sorry for all the clatter, just brought home some stuff from work.”

Bucky stiffens.

“Hey, man, you okay?” Steve asks.

There’s not much he can do at this point then to accept that this is happening. Bucky shakes his head and pulls his thoughts together.

 

“Yeah sorry. I’m James, need any help?”

 

Steve rubs the back of his neck, “If you wouldn’t mind.”

Bucky shrugs his shoulders and bends down in front of Steve. He begins collecting the loose paperwork scattered on the floor. Steve squats next to him and continues to do the same.

Bucky turns his body away from Steve and reads one of the sheets he holds in his hand.

It’s a short summary of an earthquake that occurred in Brazil. Doesn’t seem to be suspicious.

“I think that’s all of it,” Steve sighs and stands. Bucky shoves the paper into the stack of others he holds in his hand. He gets back up on his feet and clears his throat. Steve shoves his hand in his pockets and shuffles around in it until he pulls out a key.

While Rogers fiddles with the door, Bucky analyzes him. The target has a very impressive jawline and a pleasing face to compliment it. His eyes roam over the rest of Steven Grant's body. His shoulder to waist ratio is insane. Steve’s shoulders are so wide while his waist is so dainty. The man looks so gentle yet has the muscles of a gorilla. Not to mention a pretty nice ass too.

Steve finally gets the door open and Bucky shakes his head, clearing those _completely inappropriate_ thoughts. He silently huffs and steps into the apartment behind Steve.

“Sorry for the mess. You can sit all that stuff on the countertop,” Steve says as he lays a cardboard box onto the carpet.

Bucky’s eyes wander over the apartment. The structure is an exact replica of Bucky’s, though the decor is much more warming.

Plants sit in almost every corner of the room and a giant painting of an orange sunset is hung on the wall. The couch is a soft yellow and flowers sit on the glass coffee table in front of it. A black television is hung on the wall, facing the couch. No mess in sight.

 “You’re apartment is beautiful,” Bucky says.

 Steve lifts his head and looks around, “Huh? Really? Um, thanks,” Steve looks back down and jumbles through the box some more, “You can sit down if you want.”

 Steve nods his head towards the stool next to Bucky.

 

“I don’t know if I should stay,” Bucky forces out a laugh.

 

“Hey you helped me out man, least I can do is offer you a beer,” Steve finally ends his adventure in the box and walks toward the refrigerator.

 Bucky puts his hands up, ready to kindly decline again but Steve is already shoving a beer towards him.

 He grips the wet bottle that was forcefully shoved in his hand, “Um, thanks,” he says.

 Steve twists off the cap and gulps back the alcohol. Bucky studies the beer.

It doesn’t have the appearance of being tampered with and seems to be sealed shut. He knows he shouldn’t drink it but Bucky has had a rough morning. He’ll take the risk.

He twists off the top and takes a swill of the cold, tangy liquid.

 “So, James. Where you from?” Steve starts up small talk. Bucky despises small talk.

 “Um, Brooklyn,” He says before taking another sip out of his bottle.

 “Really? Same,” Steve lifts his eyebrows in surprise and leans his elbows on the countertop that Bucky says at.

 

Silence fills the room.

 

“You not much of talker, huh?” Steve chuckles a bit.

 “Sorry, I just hate small talk.”

 Steve stares a bit before making his way around the counter and towards Bucky.

 

“Alright, James. Then how about we skip all that and I just tell you everything you need to know about me and then you do the same,” Bucky stares at Steve, “Deal?” Steve asks.

 Steve slides onto the stool next to Bucky.

 Bucky nods.

 “I’m Steve Grant Roger, I was born in Brooklyn, New York. I’m 33 and my birthday is on July 4th. I was engaged to be married to a woman named Peggy. We ended things 4 years ago due to personal issues that I really don’t like getting into. Let’s see, what else,” Steve takes a sip of his beer and ponders.

He finally continues, “My best friend is Natasha, you might see her around. I work for a company named S.H.I.E.L.D. You’ve probably heard of it and sorry to disappoint but it’s much more boring than you’ve seen on tv. Oh, and I like plants,” Steve turns his head back to Bucky with a big smile plastered on his face.

 That contagious smile that Bucky had seen previously on his file.

 Thanks to that file, Bucky already knew most everything Steve told about himself. All except for Peggy. That wasn’t mentioned in the file. He’ll have to check up on that.

Bucky smiles back and shakes his head, “You’re a pretty interesting fella, huh?” Steve scoffs and takes another swig.

 “Alright my turn,” Bucky sets down his bottle and rubs his hands together. He knows his fake persona very well; Has every imaginary detail memorized.

 

“My name is James Senrab, no middle name. I’m 35 and was also born in Brooklyn. I have no siblings, not much family, and no pets. I’ve never been married and have never gave it much thought. My best friend is Mas, you will _also_ see him around,” Bucky lies. He should’ve been an actor cause god knows he’s good at it.

“I recently got hired at a company you may have heard of called S.H.I.E.L.D,” Bucky smirks, “It’s just a janitorial job but i’m hoping to make my way up the ladder. Oh, and i’m gay,” Bucky picks up his beer and cheers towards Steve before swallowing the liquor.

 

“You forgot your birthday.”

 

“March 10th,” Bucky says. That being the last bit of truth in his talk. About 60% were lies but he really doesn’t have a family and he IS gay. I also think Sam would appreciate his new name being Sam backwards, Mas (He thought of last minute).

 “Hm,” Steve interrupts his thoughts, “So how’d you get that job? It’s pretty hard finding a job with S.H.I.E.L.D.”

 

“Yeah, a friend of a friend knew some people.”

 

“What kind of people?”

 

Bucky thought of an answer, “Don’t know, never met em.” His story is believable and Steve shouldn't have any problem believing it.

 “That’s shady,” Steve laughs. Bucky smiles in return, trying to avoid the fact that it indeed, is shady.

 Bucky smirks and stares towards the blank television. He needed to change the conversation.

 “Is your birthday really July 4th,” Bucky asks with a smirk. He obviously knows it is, he’s seen the man’s birth certificate, but he’s secretly been wanting to make fun of him for it ever since.

 Steve laughs, “Unfortunately it is. Come on let me hear it, call me Uncle Sam or Mr. America. I’ve heard it all.”

 Bucky smiles and sips his beer. He shakes his head at the insults. “I gotta give it a second, come up with something original.”

 

“Is that so?” Steve smirks widely.

 

Bucky nods his head and knocks back the last bit of his beer. He shakes the bottle a bit then sits it on the counter.

 “Well, looks like i’m finished. I should probably get going,” Bucky stands and smacks his lips. He should leave before he lets some dumb shit slip.

 “No, man. Come on,” Steve stands up and puts in hand in front of Bucky, “Let me offer you something to eat. You’re my new neighbor, I should show some neighborly love,” Steve smiles.

 “I have to unpack, my vans downstairs,” Bucky says and rubs the back of his neck. He really needs to unpack, that’s the truth. He wanted to be done by five.

 “How about a sandwich? They do call me the world's best sandwich maker,” Steve smirks.

 

“They call you that?”

 

“Yes, they do.”

 

Bucky laughs. He pauses and gazes at Steve. Steve tilts his head a bit and Bucky smiles. He never got a good look at his face till now, besides the file photo. Bucky studied the familiar smile lines on the sides of his cheeks; Steve has such kind eyes and a welcoming smile but yet an intimidating body. Bucky does everything in his power not to roam his eyes up and down.

Steve is incredibly fine. Now that he thinks about it, Hydra never actually categorized what _kind_ of personal relationship. Who’s to say they didn’t mean sexual?

Unfortunately, Steve’s straight. Bucky laughs at himself and shakes his head. What is he thinking?

 

“Sure, man,” Bucky finally answers.

 

Steve claps his hands together in victory “Awesome! Now are you a turkey or ham kind of guy?” Steve walks over to the fridge and opens it.

 “Ham.”

 “Ham it is,” He reaches in and pulls out three plastic bag. One with ham, one with turkey, and one with cheese.

 “Do you want doritos on it?”

 “Doritos?” Bucky asked, confused.

 “Yeah, doritos. I put doritos on my sandwiches,” Steve says.

 

This guy is _definitely_ odd.

 

“No thanks, Captain America” Bucky laughs.

 Steve throws his head back in laughter. He had such an attractive laugh. Steve’s laughter died down and a huge smile was plastered in replace of it, “There it is. And really? A comic book superhero?”

 “What can I say? It fits you,” Bucky smiles. They both shake their heads and Steve returns to his task.

 When he finishes preparing the sandwich, they sit in the stools and talk.

 

And they eat.

And they talk.

And when they finish eating,

 

they talk some more.


End file.
